A HouseMas Carol
by Cut Throat Sweetheart
Summary: House has been in a nasty mood lately, and the holidays don't help.  When he becomes insufferable, one of his team docs comes up with an idea to help him out.  Will House learn to get into the holiday spirit, or will the holiday spirits get into him?
1. Stave One

_Hello House fans! Happy Holidays to all you Bah Humbugers. __I'm taking a small hiatus from Alias in order to work on this seasonal story._ I do not own House or any of its characters. Anyone who's looking for a pairing, you won't find it here for several chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

House absolutely despised the holidays.

Any time that united Christians, Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Hindus, Buddhists, Wiccans, Agnostics, and everyone else in the god damned world to act all cheery and give out presents made zero sense to him. And every time he said so, the person he had the misfortune to speak to just told him to get in the holiday spirit.

By now, of course, Cuddy knew better. When he yelled at a nurse this morning for trying to cheer him up, Cuddy shot him a nasty look while the nurse stood there, but when she walked away it was replaced by a sympathetic smile.

"Hey," she said walking over to him.

"You didn't come here to scold me, did you Mommy?" House said turning to walk away.

"No, just to make sure you really didn't want to come to the party tonight. Everyone will be there. Open bar, and undoubtedly some of those famous loose pediatric nurses," Cuddy smiled.

House was unmoved. He made the most serious face he could muster. "Does this look unsure to you?"

Cuddy scrunched her nose. "No."

"Good. Merry Christmas. Oh wait, you're Jewish. Happy Chinese food and a movie."

* * *

"Patient seems stable for now. BP is low but unchanging. Heart rate is just about normal," Foreman reported.

"Fantastic. But she's still in a coma and we have no idea why," House replied.

"That's not our fault," Taub answered. "We couldn't get an accurate patient history from an unresponsive woman and there are so many things we could be missing."

"And it never occurred to you to go find Cuddy and look through other hospitals' records? She can do that you know," House scoffed. Then he sang: "All I want for Christmas is my two brain lobes…"

"What's going on House, you're bitchier than usual," Thirteen stepped in.

"And you're uglier than usual."

"Nice comeback."

"Well, it's five and I'm going home," House said walking out the door. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his team start to gather their stuff. "That didn't mean that you are."

They looked at each other in surprise. "House, it's Christmas Eve!" Foreman said.

"Well, if our patient can't enjoy it, why should you?"

"There's nothing we can do about the records until the 26th," Taub said. "And yes, I know that without my two brain lobes. Administrative offices close for Christmas."

"Then I guess you'll just have to keep taking blood until you find something," he said angrily.

"This isn't fair, House!" Thirteen cried.

"Life isn't fair." And with that, he left.

Thirteen sighed and Foreman shook his head. Taub twiddled his thumbs, and looked up at the other two.

"You guys should go. I can handle lab work myself," Taub said to them.

"We can't do that," Foreman replied. "Yeah, it's not fair to you," Thirteen chimed. Taub knew they were trying to be polite, but he could sense in both of their voices a "Yes PLEASE!"

Taub chuckled. "It's alright, I'm Jewish. It's a night like any other night to me."

"Are you sure?" Thirteen said raising an eyebrow. "And your wife won't mind?"

"It's not a problem. Consider it a Christmas gift."

Foreman smiled and shook his hand. Thirteen bent to give the shorter doctor a hug. "Thank you so much," Foreman said and Thirteen nodded. They then left to get ready for the hospital holiday party.

Taub walked to the pathology lab and sat down with a vial of the coma girl's blood. He made a list of ten tests to try. When he completed the first one, he stretched backwards and started smiling a creepy smile.

He had an idea.

* * *

Sitting on his couch, House nursed the lovely brown liquid that he held in his rough hands. It was the second brown one after the original clear one, and finally, he was starting to feel the beautiful side effects.

It started with the pain in his leg becoming all but nonexistent. All he could feel was a slight tingle where his muscles had turned to mush and soon he didn't feel it at all.

Then, he felt surprisingly light. It was easy to maneuver himself from the kitchen back to the couch, minus banging into several pieces of furniture.

And lastly, the colors in the room became washed out. The sounds became softer. He felt sleep washing over him, and eager for this night to be over, he happily obliged…

And then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes dramatically. He turned his neck to see a small, soft hand, and he followed the arm up to a person that he knew, but did not know.

At least not anymore.

"Hi, Dr. House," the ten year old said cheerfully. She looked healthy and bright, with a full head of thick brown hair.

House didn't reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you must not recognize me. I was a patient of yours. I'm…"

"Andie," House said softly.

"You remembered my name? I'm impressed!" she replied sweetly.

"How did you get in here? Nice wig, by the way."

"Oh, this isn't a wig; this is my hair, silly! I never liked wigs."

House looked at her blankly.

"Well I didn't want to die bald," she said, unaware of why he was so confused.

Then he remembered. Five years ago, he had saved her from a blood clot in her brain. But it hadn't mattered; the girl was terminal before she even checked into the hospital. Her alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma had only given her a year left to live.

If this had been the first time he'd seen dead people, he might have been more worried.

"So I'm hallucinating again?" he asked.

"Again? You've hallucinated too? Ah, well that's not my business. Nope. I'm a ghost. And believe me, I don't want to be here right now, but I have to tell you that you must change your ways," Andie said.

"What's wrong with my ways? I'm still alive aren't I? Maybe you should've changed your ways," he scowled. He knew he was being insensitive to the little girl and his face fell a little, but she didn't seem to mind.

"That's not important. You must live a happier, more benevolent life before you are destined to remain here as a ghost forever. I'm here on a job, but some are forced to wander the Earth for all time. I've only been here a few minutes and I'm creeped out."

"_You're_ creeped out?"

"Dr. House, unless you promise me now that you will change your ways, three spirits will visit you in the next three nights."

"And what will they accomplish?"

"Perhaps nothing," she responded. "But I hope they do what they're coming to do. Unless you promise."

"I don't promise a thing to dead children."

"Hmm," Andie hummed softly, and vanished with a gust of wind.

He stared at the television, playing some old movie about a greedy accountant. Uninterested, he blamed the whole ordeal on the alcohol and collapsed in his bed. Alone, the way he liked it.

He fell into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

_  
_


	2. Stave Two

Must've been a really deep sleep, because when House awoke, it was midnight. And when he had gone to bed, it was two in the morning. He slept through an entire day.

Or did he?

"What the hell?" House rose from his bed and walked into his dark living room, illuminated only by the slits of moonlight that peered through the blinds.

He flipped on the television. Nothing really was ever on at this hour—just infomercials and crappy nighttime programming. He thought of the emergency supply of painkillers he kept under the loose floorboard in his bedroom.

"Nah," he said. "Not taking any chances after that nonsense last night…"

* * *

After watching an hour of a random movie that he was only interested in for the sex scenes, his eye turned to the digital clock on the cable box. It read 12:59. He stared.

1:00.

The blinds on the windows seemed to open by themselves and suddenly the room was flooded with moonlight. A cold and ghastly wind poured into the room and House shivered. He kept a fixed eye on the windows, but then the wind stopped and the blinds closed again.

Puzzled and still staring at the windows, he satisfied himself that he was just imagining things. And he turned his head back to the television.

But someone was blocking it.

"Hello, son," the spirit said in his normal voice.

"Get out of here, John," House grumbled.

"As much as I'd love to, I'm afraid I can't do that. Now wrap your big head around it."

"You're dead and useless."

"Actually, I'm the ghost of Christmas Past. I'm not here to force you into anything, although a shave would make you look less like a bum. I'm just here to show you something," his father said to him.

"Dream on," House replied. "I'm going back to bed."

He walked off and the spirit made no moves to follow him. Thinking he had rid himself of whatever ridiculous hallucinations he'd been having, he closed his bedroom door and climbed into his bed.

But as soon as his head hit the pillow, he began to float. Even as he struggled, his body moved back into the living room, where his father took his hand and they flew right through the closed window.

* * *

House seemed to be unconscious for whatever time they traveled. That or they arrived at their destination immediately. Either way, he had no idea how they had gotten there.

He recognized the place immediately. He never knew what the name of the town had actually been, but it was a Marines station in the Philippines where his father had been stationed. He had really loved this place—obviously it was no more a home than any of the other dozen places he'd lived throughout his childhood, but there was something about it that just felt so right.

They were standing in front of a tiny house, no, hut, that they had made their home in. Suddenly, an eight year old boy ran out of the house.

"Is it okay if I practice out here, Mom?" the boy yelled.

"As long as I get a break from hearing that guitar, you do whatever you want, sweetie," a voice rang from inside.

House poked his father's spirit in the ribs, which, much to House's dismay, he felt and turned to him.

"Won't the kid wonder who these two old guys standing in front of him are?" House asked.

"First of all, no. I'm a spirit, and by extension, so are you. Secondly, shut up about 'the kid' because you know who he is."

Obviously.

They listened as the young House strummed his guitar artfully. He had a pretty impressive talent for a kid his age. He began to strum _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_ and House started to remember. This was December 24, 1967. He knew what happened on this day.

"Hey, we have to go," House said loudly.

"You don't control that."

Suddenly an older man entered the picture. He was dressed in uniform and walked proudly and upright.

"Hey, Dad! Listen to what I can do!" the young House jumped up seeing his father.

"You're in the way again. Go do something productive," the elder House replied coldly. "Blythe!"

Little Gregory frowned. He stepped out of the way and moved to go play on a rock about fifteen feet away from the hut.

The noise of screaming began to emanate from inside the door. House, the spirit, walked towards the hut to hear better.

"You're going to ruin the boy's Christmas! It's not fair to him, and hell it's not fair to me!" the woman's voice shouted.

"Who cares about fucking Christmas? This is my job and we're leaving tonight!" the man yelled back.

"I don't suppose you even picked up a gift for Gregory," she said softly and icily.

"The kid needs to learn that the world isn't about happiness and gifts and him. It's full of fighting, unfairness, and cruelty, and the only way for him to get anywhere is to learn that early on. Think of it as character building. It's what the kid needs," he growled. "Now start packing."

House sighed, and started walking back towards the spirit of his father. Before he got there, their eyes met and just like that, he was swept away again.

* * *

He finally found himself outside what appeared to be a dorm. It was a dorm he had visited a lot about 25 years ago. It was the dorm where Lisa Cuddy lived as an undergraduate pre-med student at the University of Michigan.

Slowly, he pushed the door open, unnoticed by two young adults inside, laughing with each other and playing a board game.

"Greg, you suck so much at this!" the girl laughed.

"How can I be bad at Chutes and Ladders? I must just have terrible luck, Lisa," he replied with a smile.

"You don't even believe in luck," Lisa shot back. "You tell me so every time I wish you luck on a practical."

"Then maybe I'm just letting you win," Greg replied.

"And why would you do that?" Lisa smirked.

"To get you in a good mood, of course."

"And why would you do THAT?"

"So you're all hyped up already when I do this," he said playfully and kissed her square on the lips.

Lisa looked shocked, but soon smiled. "NOW I'm in a good mood," she said, and kissed him.

"Wow," Greg said. "Merry Christmas, Lisa."

"Merry Christmas to you, Greg." She cuddled up against him and the smug look on his face was incredibly endearing.

House sighed again, remembering that night so well. He remembered the feeling of her lips, just as soft as he knew they would be…

"It's time to go, son," the elder House's spirit boomed.

"I'm not your son," House said in a low voice. "We've been through this."

"Either way, my time is up."

Without House even turning around from the scene, they were gone again.

* * *

He was back on the bed, his head against the pillow, the vision of his "father" nowhere to be found.

He fell into another very, very deep sleep.

* * *

_Check back tomorrow for the Ghost of Christmas Present!_


	3. Stave Three

He woke up and hoped whatever trick his mind was going to play on him will get it over with quickly.

However, after sitting up and staring at the wall for about fifteen minutes, nothing appeared. The room was silent except for his labored breathing and everything was motionless. Satisfied, he lay back down on his side and closed his eyes.

_This is all over with. Obviously I had a little too much to drink and now it's passed._

He opened his eyes.

"HOLY SHIT."

Amber lay right next to him, mirroring his position. She smirked at him. "Miss me yet?"

"Okay, now I know I'm hallucinating. All this ghost stuff was real funny but…I'm…not on the Vicodin," he finished slowly, pouting.

"Come on, I hate this too. Let's just go," the blonde said, rising and holding out her hand.

"I have no interest in going anywhere with you, bitch," he moaned burying his face into his pillow. _Just…need…some…sleep…_

She roughly turned his head to face her. Moving her face eerily close to his, she replied, "Oh, really?" She continued to lean in and House began to wonder if spirits are capable of sexual tension.

Before he can answer, she touches his hand and in a flash they are gone.

* * *

"I didn't properly introduce myself," she said as they stood outside of a home that House had visited a number of times.

"I know who you are. Amber Volakis, Cut Throat Bitch, dead girlfriend of Wilson's."

"Tonight, I'm the ghost of Christmas Present. Step inside with me. Cripples first."

Not letting go of her hand, he wandered through the door.

"Welcome, Dr. House, to Casa de la Cuddy. Although I take it you've seen it before."

He had obviously seen it before, but not this full. He swore that just about every doctor in the hospital was standing in her living room right now, along with some nurses. Among them he could spot all the old and new members of his team. Taub and Rachel were looking awkward and talking to a doctor House didn't recognize, and Chase and Cameron were catching up with Foreman, who seemed to be dreadfully avoiding Thirteen, who was having her own conversation with Wilson. House hoped they were playing Truth or Dare, but suddenly Wilson excused himself from the discussion.

Staring at her former boyfriend, she followed his footsteps and beckoned House to come too.

As they walked through the room, House distinctly noted that Cuddy was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Wilson found his way out onto the patio, where Cuddy's whereabouts were made known. She wasn't crying, and didn't even look sad, but her face was expressionless.

"Lisa?" Wilson tried, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Good evening, James," she sighed.

"Why are you out here by yourself?"

"You know, just needed some air."

"Again? You've come out here about six times and you haven't spent more than five minutes inside at a time. This isn't about House, is it?"

She shrugged her shoulders casually.

Wilson heaved a sigh. "You couldn't have really expected him to come here. Holidays are not his thing."

"Neither is any other day of the year, I'm afraid."

They stood in silence for what House guessed to be about two minutes. He wasn't sure if his watch worked in the space time continuum.

"It's nothing against you, Lisa."

"But I feel like it is, James. The way he always does things like this…I'm really just starting to give up on him."

House turned to look at Amber, who was wearing just the tiniest hint of sadness on her face.

"I hope you don't mean that."

Cuddy rubbed her head. "Cameron gave up on him."

"Completely different story. They don't have the…history you guys do."

"It doesn't matter. She moved on and so can I." Only then did Cuddy allow the smallest tear to fall from her eye. Wilson met her in a friendly embrace and allowed her to bury her head in his shoulder.

House had been fixated on the scene so tightly that it really knocked him back into reality when he felt a sharp tug on his sleeve.

"Come inside," Amber ordered.

He didn't know what else there could possibly be to see. He just saw his bastard behavior hurt his college fling and dirty little secret, and as much as he would never admit it, it tugged at his heartstrings a little.

But, staring at Amber's glare and knowing he wouldn't get anywhere until she finished, he begrudgingly followed her back inside.

* * *

"Okay House, here's a puzzle for you. What doctors besides Wilson were here before and now are not?" Amber said playfully as they stood there scanning the view.

Taub? Still standing awkwardly with his arm around Rachel. Check.

Foreman? Flirting with a clearly uninterested pediatric nurse. Check.

Thirteen? Taking advantage of the open bar. Check.

A certain pair of blonde doctors, however, were missing.

"Where's the dream couple?" House asked sardonically.

"Follow me, and prepare to eat those words," Amber said with another hint of sadness.

"I take it you've also seen this part of the house?" the blonde spirit said jokingly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" House scoffed. Amber smiled back flirtatiously.

He opened the door.

"Allison, are you ever going to love me enough to admit to yourself that I'm the only one?" Chase yelled.

"I love you Robert, it was a slip of the tongue!" Cameron shouted back.

"Oh right, because everyone introduces their husband to other doctors using the WRONG FIRST NAME."

"It was an honest mistake!"

"Forgive me for having trouble with that concept when you introduce me as GREG."

House immediately scrunched up his face. Amber held a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Robert, this isn't fair," Cameron cried.

"We'll discuss this later," Chase leered at her. He stormed out of the room and Cameron followed him just long enough to watch him get in his car and drive away.

Cameron sighed, wiping away a tear from her glistening green eye. She walked up to Thirteen, who she figured didn't look too drunk. She knew she'd barely had a conversation with the woman, but she was desperate.

"Hey, uh, Dr. Hadley?"

"Hmm?" Thirteen looked up from her scotch.

"I know this is kind of imposing, but…do you think you could give me a lift back to the hospital?"

Thirteen studied her face. "Why isn't Chase taking you home?"

Cameron looked down. "I'd really rather not discuss that now."

The brunette nodded. "Yeah, of course."

* * *

House had once again fallen into the sort of stupor one experiences when being drawn into a movie. Amber startled him again.

"Wow, talk about a Merry Christmas!"

He glared at her.

"So, that's three relationships you managed to ruin, huh? And you're so good that one of them hadn't even actually begun and the other two weren't even yours!"

"I only counted two, bitch. You're an ass, not stupid."

"I count three. Look at who you're talking to."

He turned to face her and all of the events that happened over a year ago flooded his memory. She looked now much as she did right on that night, before the crash.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled ruefully.

"It's a little too late for me. But the other two, you might be able to fix," she said with not a trace of anger or regret in her voice.

She took his hand and they were back in his bedroom. He had gotten used to the transportation by now, but it always left him with a slight headache.

* * *

"Goodbye, House." Amber said standing at his bedside while he sat rubbing his temples.

"What, no goodbye kiss?" House replies mischievously.

Amber smirked. "I'll humor you," she said and pecked him on the cheek.

"That was lame," he said disappointedly.

"Sorry, that's all the time we have for today," she grinned. "But it looks like your last visitor is right on time…"

He turned his head to parallel her gaze as a frightening hooded figure stalked towards them.

"What the…"

* * *

_Oh gosh, is it Death? Or is it someone else? Mind playing tricks again? We'll just have to see tomorrow!_


	4. Stave Four

The hooded figure moved closer and closer and House wondered if he was finally dying.

Then the creature flipped off its hood. It was Kutner.

Amber burst out laughing at the immaturity of her former coworker. Kutner grinned sheepishly in return and the two spirits met in an embrace.

"I thought you hated each other," House mumbled.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do have a soul," Amber retorted. "I helped him out when he first passed. Really, please do explain the Grim Reaper outfit?"

"Just to watch the expression on House's face," Kutner shrugged.

Amber smiled. "See you later." She turned to House. "See you…hopefully much later." She pirouetted and then she was gone.

While House stared at his feet, Kutner grinned a goofy grin.

"So uh, ready to go?"

"I figure at this point, 'no' is not an option, right?"

"Bingo, Dr. House."

Kutner grabbed House's shoulder forcefully and they were gone in a flash.

* * *

"Ow!" House said with a glare towards Kutner. "You really need more practice with this stuff."

"Not my fault. Andie did something like this with her mom, John did it with your mom, and Amber did it with Wilson. This is my first time being a ghost at all. But especially the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Speaking of which, you'd better come with me."

They were in a graveyard.

Now House was pretty smart. He knew where this was going and obviously he was the one that was dead. Surely Kutner was just there to show him that and that there were like, oh, only three mourners or whatever.

Surprisingly, he was only partially right.

* * *

He walked up behind Wilson, delivering a eulogy in front of a good fifty people. There were tears in a lot of eyes, including the eyes of some people that he didn't like and shouldn't have liked him in return.

Wilson's voice was sad and sweet:

"But he was more than just a brilliant diagnostician. It may be hard for some of you to believe, but he was an extremely loyal friend. He would have done just about anything for his friends—he even sacrificed his life on more than one occasion to help me and even his employees. To me, he was irreplaceable, even when I thought I couldn't bear him anymore.

"But perhaps an even greater bond existed between Dr. House and Dr. Cuddy. Friends since college…"

House nudged Kutner in the ribs.

"Where's Cameron? I figured she'd have a front row blubbering seat."

Kutner sighed. "After Chase kicked Cameron out for not being able to let go of you, she went completely missing. She left resignation papers on Cuddy's desk and was gone in the blink of an eye. No one, not even her parents have any idea where she is."

"You must know."

"I'm afraid I don't know."

"Oh."

"But I can show her to you," Kutner said and with his fingers traced a small projection in front of House's eyes.

The projection showed what seemed to be an average living room in an average apartment. House looked for any signs that would point out where the apartment was, but could find none. His eyes traveled to the woman in the projection, a slightly aged version of Cameron reading an obituary.

_World Class New Jersey Diagnostician, Dr. Gregory House, Dead at 62_

"That's all I live to be, huh?" House mused.

The woman crumples up the obituary and downs a large sip of liquor before collapsing on the couch.

"That's enough," House said quietly, and brought his gaze back to Wilson, who, for some reason, was still talking about him and Cuddy.

"Their friendship was simply so strong, that it seems that one couldn't live without the other," Wilson finished.

House, confused, looked at Kutner. "Take a closer look," the spirit ordered him.

He walked past Wilson, so that he was standing just as any other member of the crowd. For the first time, he realized that the tearstained Wilson was not standing in front of one grave, but two.

"No," House said.

"I'm afraid so," Kutner responded. "By the time you turned sixty, you started to find that your mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be. Four days before this funeral, you lost a patient. The problem was, it was the second patient in a row that died."

"That's never happened to me before," House mused.

"Exactly. I guess it made you snap, because you finally overdosed on the Vicodin."

"I quit Vicodin."

"Because no one ever relapses? Anyway, it was Cuddy that found you. At least, she was the first to find you. The second to find you was Wilson. The poor man—walked into an apartment to find two dead bodies on the floor."

"Why would she kill herself? When I was with Amber, at that party, she said she was going to move on."

Kutner looked at him silently. Shuffling his feet on the ground, he responded icily, "Everybody lies."

That was the statement that broke Gregory House.

* * *

Staring at a college picture of a young Lisa and Greg wrapped in a friendly embrace, the tears finally escaped his eyes.

Kutner walked over and patted his back. _Too bad Amber isn't here to see this, she'd pay money, _he thought to himself.

"So whose life didn't I ruin?" House said, his tears quickly ceasing.

"You didn't really ruin anyone else's life. But isn't that enough, when you can save all of them?"

House nodded. "Hey, what about Thirteen?"

"Oh, she's here," Kutner said sadly.

"I don't see her."

"Turn around," he sighed.

Indeed, Thirteen was there behind him. But not the person. Yet another headstone marked yet another casualty.

"It couldn't be the Huntington's, not this fast. This is only eleven years in the future."

Wincing from his own experience, Kutner replied, "Don't you remember the suicide rate for patients with Huntington's?"

House rubbed his head. "I bet I didn't help with that one, either."

"This one, I wouldn't blame on you."

* * *

House turned back towards the current funeral. "So this is how it ends? We both OD?"

"Yeah."

"It can't end like that."

"It shouldn't."

"What am I going to do about it?"

"Let's find out," Kutner said, grabbing his shoulder and taking them away, more gently this time.

* * *

Back in his bedroom, House was, quite frankly, dazed. He had never felt this…much? He wanted, no, needed to prevent the scene he just saw, but how could he possibly change it?

"Oh, and by the way, House," the fading vision of Kutner spoke. "Since Andie first arrived here, ten minutes have passed."

"That's not possible."

"Out of all the things that have happened to you, THIS surprises you?" And Kutner was gone.

_Okay, so I didn't lose much time. Great. So what?_

And then he realized: he needed to get to that party right now.

* * *

_It's officially Christmas Day-everyone please enjoy the holidays and check back later for the final chapter!_


	5. Stave Five

He stood outside Cuddy's house once more, this time unaccompanied by any spirits. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. He should've brought a gift; it would've given him something to say…

But instead he opened the door and was welcomed by about thirty surprised stares.

He didn't say anything, and slowly they all turned back to their conversations.

House pushed himself through the crowd of hospital staff, avoiding contact with anyone he did or didn't know, because Wilson and Cuddy were outside on that patio and he was running out of time.

"The way he always does things like this…I'm really just starting to give up on him."

"I hope you're not talking about me," House said loudly from behind them.

Cuddy about-faced in a snap. A look of desperation morphed immediately into a wide grin.

"Wow, you're here. I mean, you. At a holiday party," Cuddy stammered.

"Wearing a Santa hat, I might add?" Wilson said with a hint of confusion.

"Yeah, well…free booze, right?" House shrugged.

Cuddy nodded, and they stood there in a happy silence for a few minutes.

"So, the terrible threesome reunites," House broke the silence. "Well, we should probably get inside—what's a party without Party Pants and the world's most entertaining drunk?"

Cuddy blushed and Wilson sighed. "I'm not getting drunk tonight, House!"

"Aww, please? It'll be fun for you and twice as fun for us to watch you get arrested for public indecency—again!"

"You don't have to drink a single drop if you don't want to, James. But he's right," Cuddy said shivering, "we should go inside. But first…"

Cuddy wrapped her arms around House and smiled. House rolled his eyes and stiffened, but eventually relaxed into the embrace of one of his two best friends.

She let go and the three walked back into the living room.

* * *

Chase had Cameron's hand in his. They were making the rounds, ensuring that every doctor there would know both their names and that Cameron was off limits. The second part was far more important to Chase; the first part was more of Cameron's mission.

Cameron let her glance move to the picture of Cuddy, Wilson, and House walking in from the patio. Cuddy was laughing, Wilson had a cheesy grin on his face, and House looked—well, content was the best she could say for him. But content was beyond anything she'd seen from him for months. She studied his eyes, and smiled at her conclusion that all hope was not lost for Gregory House.

The blonde duo made their way to an older man and his wife.

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Simpson! This is Dr. Steven Simpson and his lovely wife, Laura. He is the head of Nephrology. Dr. Simpson, this is my husband Dr. Robert Chase, one our surgeons," Cameron said sweetly.

Chase smiled back at Cameron and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

Meanwhile, Thirteen was just hanging out on a stool at the open bar setup. She wasn't as open about it as House was, but she wasn't a fan of the holidays either. She of course accepted the invitation to be here, but she felt awkward and out of place.

House caught Thirteen's gaze out of the corner of his eye and hatched an idea.

"Guys, let's go entertain our resident screw-up doctor!"

"If you're referring to Dr. Hadley, she is a brilliant physician," Cuddy retorted.

"Fine, let's go entertain our resident doctor who IS a screw-up," House said and lurched them forwards towards the bar.

Thirteen looked nervous at House's playful grin.

"Um…hi?" she said.

"Good evening, Dr. Hadley. Very glad you came, and I won't ruin it for you by letting House play a game. Come on, House," Cuddy reassured Thirteen.

"Oh come on, this'll be fun! We're gonna play truth or dare. Thirteen told me once she was the queen of truth or dare."

Cuddy wasn't impressed, but Wilson looked interested. Thirteen's sullen face turned into a mischievous smile and she stood up.

"Game on."

It was a Merry Christmas for all, and for all a good night.

* * *

"You know, I liked the other ending better," Amber said munching on popcorn.

"That's because you are a cut throat bitch," Kutner replied with a grin.

"That's not fair, you were the only one I could ever count on to be nice to me now matter how often I treated you like crap!"

"Well now that I'm already dead, I'm no longer afraid of you murdering me."

"Touche, Kutner. But I'm telling you now, those two aren't going to last."

"Who, Chase and Cameron? But they're so adorable!"

"Well, they'd make nice babies. But nah, it isn't going to work out."

"What about House and Cuddy, Dr. Love?"

"Don't ask me about that one…depends on if they consider sleeping together a relationship or not. I doubt they'd ever get married."

"Hmm."

"Well, I think I'll be going back to my sector of the beyond," Amber rose.

"Yeah, I guess we should go," Kutner said disappointedly.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Well, it turns out spending eternity alone kinda sucks."

"Don't you spend time with your parents?"

"A little, but…I don't know."

"Well, it is Christmas. We could hang out a little longer. Now that you're dead, I'm not as tempted to murder you."

They laughed and watched the scene from above, enjoying one last look at the world they had left.

"Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!" Kutner boomed.

All the guests in the house looked around for a second.

"Kutner, you idiot!"

* * *

_Thus ends the House Christmas Carol. I warned you there wasn't any romance, so sorry if you were looking for it! Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!_


End file.
